Nid Hawdd Fy Nala - I am hard to be caught
by shi-wiprincess
Summary: I have no gold, silver or riches to offer thee, just the bread grown by my own hands from the rich earth. It is all I have to offer, save myself which is yours for ever." Everlark in the Welsh legend of The Lady of the Lake.


**Nid Hawdd Fy Nala (I am hard to be caught) **

The clouds are hanging low over Black Mountain. A cool wet mist begins to blanket the land with a thousand droplets, which hang momentarily from the rough grass before plunging down into the bog beneath. The touch of the mist is gentle, but many a wandering stranger has been carefully enfolded in its embrace, only to be cast as mercilessly as the droplets over the precipice into the dark lake below.

Almost all from the village of Blaensawdde are reluctant to venture here and the windswept slopes and murky water is not all they are in fear of. For in the depths of Llyn y Fan Fach is Annwn, the realm of the faeries. No one living has seen them, but their haunting songs can be heard echoing across the valley when the sky is clear and the moon is full. Yet, despite the warnings of the villagers, there is one who is not afraid. The villagers call him Peeta, the boy with the kind heart and he alone allows his father's cattle to graze wherever they wish. The grass on the side of the lake is always the sweetest and every day he patiently follows their every tread. His pale bare feet test the harsh ground for the safest path. His bright blue eyes keenly search the clouds that rest on the mountain peak for the first sign of the hailstorms that frequently threaten to terrify his charges and send them scattering away from his tender care. Only when no hint of danger is in sight and the cattle are happily chewing on the lushest blades does he stop to admire the beauty of his surroundings. Sometimes he even stares right into the blackness of the mere and tries to remember the night time stories his father would tell him of the faery folk. His quiet voice was nearly always overpowered by the howl of the cruel north wind. A cold warning sent from the faeries themselves, for their history will always belong only to them.

On this day he has more to daydream about than how many shades of green are cast upon the mountainside by the shadows of passing clouds or how he longs to find out if the sunrise looks just as radiant from the valley beyond his own. He is squatting by the side of the water, his fair hair falling over his eyes as he stirs with a stick to break up the clarity of his own reflection. He wants to deny that his shoulders have grown strong and his legs are sturdy from years of clambering over the rocks and jumping the many streams that feed the lake. He knows he is handsome and that tradition dictates it is time he takes a wife from amongst the rosy cheeked village girls that giggle and whisper each time that he passes.

They are not what he wants. He does not know what he wants, but his dreams are haunted by the beautiful voice of a girl lamenting the love she watches yet does not have. Every time he starts to become certain the song is about him, the dream melts away and the silence of his reality reminds him it is fruitless to search for someone that only exists in his mind.

That is why on this day he allows himself to be distracted just long enough for the cattle to have wandered further than they have ever ventured before. That is why he doesn't notice the mist creeping up on him until he must throw his brychan over his head to keep the chill from penetrating his bones. He sighs and whistles softly to his cattle, although he soon accepts he has no choice other than to follow them out into the call of the unknown. The wall of swirling moisture is smothering and he tries to hurry ahead so that the beasts may be protected from the perils along the way. It is very wild here and the thistles cut at his feet and the nettles sting at the skin of his ankles. He is just about to despair that the cattle must surely be lost, when he hears the voice of she who belongs only in his dreams calling from the direction of the water.

"Dewch in ol i mi! Dewch in ol! Come back to me! Come back!"

As if summoned by the haunting words, the mist retreats silently from whence it came. At first it seems to Peeta that nothing more is left behind, but a clear spring morning in which to peacefully wend his way back to his father's farmhouse. However, when he looks out across the lake he realises that he is mistaken and the surface of the water is covered with a myriad of ever increasing ripples. A dread so great spreads through him until he sees what must be the source of his rescue from the elements. For there, perched on a jagged rock far out in the water is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. She appears too tiny to be human and she is clothed in the most delicate of dresses, the colour of which imitates the reflected green in the blue of the lake. A wreath of flowers with white petals trails across her petite frame. Her skin is the colour of rich golden honey and her eyes the shade of the granite that can be found on the Peak of Black Mountain. However it is her hair which he cannot tear his eyes away from. The thickest of black tresses bound up in a plait so long that the tip floats out into the water beyond. Slowly she shakes it all loose and begins to comb out the tangles whilst using the unusually clear water as a mirror below. Her expression is so sad and it hurts his heart to see anyone look so mournful, let alone on one who should be so dazzling.

Tentatively he steps forward and holds out the only thing he has to offer. That is his last scrap of crusted barley bread, lovingly baked by his father to feed his only surviving son and the hungry mouths of the children in Blaensawdde. He is gladdened when she stands up in the water and his heart heals when he sees the smile of acceptance that starts to adorn her face. But the never ending ripples start to surge around her and the smile turns bitter.

"Cras dy fara. Nid Hawdd fy nala! Hard baked is thy bread, I am hard to be caught!"

With that, she turns and dives into the water and is lost from his sight.

Dark clouds return to mar the perfect skies and a storm threatens to spook the herd and further invade the surface of the water with cold dancing raindrops. Peeta must hurry the cattle back to the warmth of their stalls, but he knows that he will never forget the elusive faery girl whom he is certain has ripped out his heart and carried it with her far down into the depths of Annwn. Worse still, he is sure that no mortal can ever make him feel this way and he promises to himself that as long as he lives, he will never love another.

That night Peeta confides the whole story to his trusted father by the light of the crackling fire. The aging farmer is troubled to see his precious son so restless. Peeta is the youngest baby son he managed to miraculously save from under the murderous blade of a vengeful English knight; the same sword that also viciously took away the life of his mother and older brothers. He does not deserve to be troubled by suffering and pain. He encourages Peeta to remember the hope that his survival has always instilled amongst everyone in the village and to believe that he will see his faery maiden again. His words seem to reassure his son and he finally agrees to try and settle down to sleep.

If Peeta could only know the true feelings of his new love, he would be overjoyed. Since his appearance on the slopes of Black Mountain, Katniss has been secretly fascinated by the generous human boy who seems so different from what she has been told about his fellows. She is touched by the way he wanders without disdain into the wild lands that other men seem to think are only good enough for her people. As he grows older, stronger and more handsome so her curiosity grows and every night she makes herself invisible and follows him back to his home to watch him sleep. The time has come when she begins to think that maybe one day she could grow to love him.

These feelings are all very well, but Katniss knows they are constricted by the history of a terrible curse. The faery elders had long watched the way that the footprints of mankind had become more numerous across the wilderness. They saw how many faeries were tempted away from their kingdom by the love of some lowly villager and they feared that their power would become diminished. Therefore they decreed no faery could ever join hands with a mortal again. They cast a spell that made the villagers quake with fright at the sight of the faeries unique beauty. Their plot was successful for a while, until a bold and pure hearted young girl from Blaensawdde discovered the healing powers of the herbs and water flowers that still flourished by the banks of Llyn y Fan Fach. She was very fair and much beloved by all the people. One day, as she leaned into the water she was startled by appearance of a face gazing back at her that was not her own. However, she was not long afraid and when the faery prince swam to bring her bouquets of beautiful floating white flowers and began to serenade her with the love songs of Annwn; she reached into the depths and pulled him out onto the treacherous rocks above. They never let go of each other's hands until they found refuge in the abandoned farmhouse some miles away at Esgair Llaethdy.

They saw nobody and felt forgotten by the world. They were contented with only each other and in time they were blessed with the birth of two beautiful daughters; Katniss after the white flowers in Llyn y Fan Fach and Primrose from the pretty hedgerows at Esgair Llaethdy. In fact they were so happy that they became careless and the faery prince longed to swim in the waters of the great lake just one last time. Now there was none so scornful, so envious and so violently opposed to the world of the humans than the king of the faeries himself. He was not of a noble nature and tormented all who dared to get in his way. When he saw how the faery prince was daring to flaunt his disobedience in front of the whole kingdom, the powerful monarch flew into a rage and sent a terrible snowstorm to chase his son up onto the mountainside. His body was buried so deep in the snowdrift that no amount of magic could save him. The poor village girl went mad with fear at the fate of her beloved and she attempted to flee, leaving her daughters by stranded by themselves in the water. The faery king cast a spell which made her mute and her mysterious reappearance into Blaensawdde, followed by her lonely death did more for the faeries cause than any other punishment might have achieved. Finally, the faery king's wrath was over and he took pity on the weeping beauties left behind in the mere. Vines came upon them and bound every limb, dragging them down, deep into the darkest part of the lake where they were deemed lost to the faery world forever. White flowers would always adorn their every costume; a reminder that they would never more be free.

So Katniss was raised a faery under the watchful eye of her godmother from Annwn below. Each year that passed her spirit grew in strength, her independent nature flourished and the magical powers of her voice led all who heard her to doubt her human blood. She loved to rise up out of the waters and whisper to the mists as they encircled her favourite rock. She would even call out to the Buzzards, soaring as they did above the barren wasteland that was now hers alone to explore. However she never forgot the terror of her father's demise or the sight of her mother disappearing across the grassland without once looking back. The memory of abandonment still ached and her feelings for the humans grew as cold as the winter ice sheet that covers Llyn y Fan Fach.

That was until she laid her eyes upon Peeta.

The faery godmother soon observed Katniss long absences from the faery castle, and the wilful disposition she seemed to have inherited from her father. Upon learning that Katniss only had eyes for a human boy, the faery king despaired of losing yet another of his own. He thought long and hard about what would deter her most. Finally he took to roaming the slopes of Black Mountain and when he came upon Peeta, he disguised himself as a black cow amongst his herd. On witnessing for himself the boy's patience, gentleness and kind nature he became overcome with jealousy. He cursed Peeta so that if ever a future wife were to disobey him, he would immediately forget how much he loved her and walk eternally away from her side. In her turn, she would be so broken-hearted that she must forever go back to her place of origin; broken spirited, listless and alone. Afterwards, he returned to the faery castle bearing both sisters dresses spun from the finest faery cloth, the most sumptuous food they had ever tasted and obedient servants to attend to their every whim. Once Katniss had tried on her new clothes and eaten her fill of the food, he reminded her that any human boy she dared to take the hand of would always eventually leave her. Anyway, even if he did not, then he would always be destined to die.

So Katniss knows why she must always watch the boy with the bread from afar. But now she cannot forget the look upon his face when he first noticed her, the way it felt to feel his eyes upon her flesh. How they seemed to follow every contour of her body beneath the wet dress which until that moment had been the only thing to cling desperately to her skin. As she ascends the oak tree that has always allowed her to sing him to sleep, she cannot help but imagine that the brush of the bark is the caress of his hands against her legs. She wonders if the slight spotting of rain against her cheek is as subtle as his soft kiss. Most of all, it is impossible to ignore how he sunk to the ground in disappointment when he thought she had gone, and the worried crease in his brow that she might as well have moulded there herself.

It will be more difficult than before, but she must continue keeping him safe from a distance the only way she knows how. Her last remaining defence is to convince him that he is not worthy of the aloof faery princess he must now believe her to be.

The next morning, Peeta sets off as soon as the sunrise begins to illuminate the unexplored side of the valley. He tries to bask in the precious warmth of the sun's first rays and enjoy the comforting melody that comes from the gentle clanking of the cow bells. But in truth, the fair maiden from the waters of Llyn a Fan Fach is all he can think about and his aspirations soar as high the eagles. He imagines telling her of his adoration when he sees her and what she will say to him when he does. He tries to find the words with which to describe her beauty and let her know that if she will only consent to marry him, he will cherish and care for her for the rest of his days. So important is his task that his tongue stumbles where normally it speaks unhindered and his last hope clutches at the mound of unbaked bread dough that rests protected in the wool of his garments. He vows not to dishonour the father who has so much faith in him and takes courage in the old man's words of wisdom as they parted. Maybe leftover bread that had been baked so long it had almost caught fire was not the way to reassure one whom had every right to be wary of his intentions. His father seems to understand more about the ways of women and had reassured him that if she returns to find him a second time then his efforts will not be in vain. Peeta cannot even bear to contemplate the possibility that he may never see her again.

By late afternoon, Peeta can once again be found wandering by the furthest shores of the great lake, but this time his eyes have a clear view of his surroundings and he never stops glancing towards the rock that had once displayed his beloved. The day has been unusually warm and he is so tired that several times he has to keep himself from falling asleep. In fact he has never been so lazy and he begins to wonder if the faery only wished to be his guardian angel against the elements and was not supposed to be revealed to him at all. Several times he has the sensation that he too is being watched over, but further enquiry reveals not a soul upon the slopes of Black Mountain. He wants to stay longer but his duty to his father's cattle cannot be forsaken and he knows he must soon start off for home.

Finally Peeta releases his frustration by thoughtlessly skimming a pebble as far as he can into the centre of the lake. He does not consider that the ever widening circles from his stony messenger may alert those that lie in wait in the deep. In fact his attention is diverted by the trumpet of a magnificent wild swan. He stands riveted as the bird approaches the rock. The glare of the sun upon the whiteness of its feathers is so bright that he is forced to look away, but when his sight returns he is amazed to once again behold the faery he has waited so long to catch a glimpse of. This time there is no question that she is indeed looking back at him. She is even lovelier than he remembers and the intensity of her gaze is enough to make Peeta forget every word that he wished for her to hear. Instead he fumbles for the dough he has carried so carefully and once again he offers his gift in her direction. His excitement is indescribable as she slides down off of the rock and begins to glide in his direction. The look of pure happiness she gives him is so sincere that he cannot help but run towards her. They meet in the shallow water, and their fingertips are just about to touch when a look of sheer panic spreads across Katniss face. She pushes away from him with such force that Peeta falls down into the water and the unbaked bread is carried away far out into the water. He can do nothing more than feel foolish as he looks mournfully up at her backing away from him and resolutely shaking her head.

"Llaith dy fara. Ti ny Fynna! Unbaked is thy bread, I will not have thee!"

Once again she vanishes. But this time before Peeta turns away he is certain that he sees a great black swan, the colour of which he has never seen before plunging into the lake and retrieving the unbaked bread. He stares in awe as the bird's powerful wingspan beats in angry defiance at the water before it flies away into the ever approaching dusk.

Of course Peeta is distraught at losing the faery he desires so much to be his for a second time, but he is also very mystified by all that he has heard and seen. Surely the warnings of the villagers must be the truth. How could he have been mad enough to even consider that one of the fairer folk could have any regard for his feelings, let alone consent to be his bride? The ability to astound him with her magic seems never-ending, yet why does his compassionate nature suggest to him that it is perhaps she who is afraid. As he leads his cows sadly homeward, he cannot shake off the sense that some greater power is still watching him and the hard face of Black Mountain stares down upon him with more animosity than he has ever cared to notice before. Even when he is away from the bleakness of the valley, the homely comfort of the farmhouse is not enough to ease his anguished mind. He feels that this time not even his father would understand why he still longs for the mysterious lady of the lake. But he is drawn like a moth to a flame and the urge to pursue her is so strong that he knows only in death will he ever be able to let her go. So it is with these thoughts that he aimlessly wanders the farmhouse and surrounding garden until he sinks with exhaustion at the foot of one of the apple trees in the orchard where he loved to play as a small boy.

He is not alone in his confusion.

Katniss has failed to return to the faery kingdom after her unwise display earlier in the afternoon. Instead she sits high on the Peak of Black Mountain, as if a queen in waiting who surveys her future realm in the light of the full moon. Yet tonight she does not feel this way and she cannot conjure the air of freedom she gains from the height of the mountain and the sense of belonging she still gets from the bonds that continue to tie her to the lake. Instead she is drawn to the light from the fire at the farmhouse. She finds it easier to recall the warmth of her mother's embrace as her father would sing her lullabies to help her sleep. In comparison the world of the faeries seems so distant and cold. It is true there are riches and dark splendour beyond imagining, but they are a poor substitute for the welcoming sounds and smells of the farm life and the soothing caress she knows that she will find there. She realises that this lofty place has never made her feel more alone and she looks again to find the only one who might be able to ease her suffering.

She is filled with remorse at the pitiful sight of Peeta crumpled at the base of the apple tree and the thought that never again may he want to meet her out in the wilderness causes her great pain. But she will not risk going to him; she cannot bear to seal their fate in this way. So she tries to console the both of them the only way she knows how. Out arises her faery harp from the pile of stones on the summit at Black Mountain and her lonely song of longing echoes throughout the valley and beyond, bringing tears to the eyes of all who hear it.

_Dacw 'nghariad i lawr yn y berllan,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
O na bawn i yno fy hunan,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
Dacw'r tŷ, a dacw'r 'sgubor;  
Dacw ddrws y beudy'n agor.  
Ffaldi radl didl dal, ffaldi radl didl dal,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal. _

_Dacw'r dderwen wych ganghennog,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
Golwg arni sydd dra serchog.  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
Mi arhosaf yn ei chysgod  
Nes daw 'nghariad i 'ngyfarfod.  
Ffaldi radl didl dal, ffaldi radl didl dal,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal. _

_Dacw'r delyn, dacw'r tannau;  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
Beth wyf gwell, heb neb i'w chwarae?  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal  
Dacw'r feinwen hoenus fanwl;  
Beth wyf well heb gael ei meddwl?  
Ffaldi radl didl dal, ffaldi radl didl dal,  
Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal _

_There is my love down in the orchard,  
Oh how I wish I were there myself,  
There is the house and there is the barn;  
There is the door of the cattle shed open. _

_There is the gallant, branching oak,  
A vision, lovingly crowned.  
I will wait in her shade  
Until my love comes to meet me. _

_Here is the harp, here are her strings;  
What better am I, without anyone to play her for?  
There's the gentle handsome one, exquisite and full of life;  
What nearer am I, without having him? _

So she sings and after she does so, she sees Peeta, she really sees him. She sees the look of enraptured happiness that lights up his face at the sound of her voice. She sees the look of profound loss when he awakens and realises she isn't really there beside him. She notices how he tries to walk softly past his sleeping father so as not to disturb him. She observes with delight how the first thing he does is crouch before the embers of the fire and uses his hands to shape a perfectly half-baked loaf. She stares in disbelief as he heads out onto the treacherous bog land with only the moonlight to guide him. She ponders how one seemingly lowly cattle herder can remain so determined despite how little she gives him in return. Most importantly, she begins to question how any faery decree could possibly be more powerful than devotion such as this. Her heart goes into her mouth as he slips and falls on a particularly fast paced waterfall, but he does not need her help and carries on without any regard for the bruises he must have sustained. What could possibly drive this boy to abandon her once he had won her love? Are his kind not supposed to tremble at the very sight of her? He is brave and the more he sees of her true nature, the more he seems to pursue her. How could she have believed that an endless lifetime of wanting him will be kinder than loving him for all she is worth until he dies? She remembers the songs of her father in praise of her mother of how only a mortal with the purest and most constant of hearts could see past their fear of the faeries. She does not like to acknowledge it, but there is something about the mixture of blood that flows in her veins that promises to give her the potential to even outstrip the princely power of her father. She is not made naïve as he was by his misplaced affection for his father the faery king. If it came to it, what could prevent her from singing out to her allies, the elements and creatures from the valley and facing his rage here, on the highest point of Black Mountain?

So she makes her choice. If Peeta can make it to the furthest shore then she will enter one more time into her realm in the deep, then return to accept his offering on the banks of Llyn y Fan Fach.

He does make it. By the first light of morning, he waits this last time in the hope of just another chance to look upon her beautiful face. Time passes and without his cattle, he can wait no longer. In despair he takes one last long look into the blackness of the water and then throws the bread as far as he can towards the rock, crying

"Nid oes gennyf unrhyw aur, arian neu gyfoeth i'w gynnig i ti, dim ond y fara a wnaethpwyd gan fy dwylo eu hunain oddi ar y ddaear cyfoethog. Mae hyn i gyd yn rhaid i mi gynnig, arbed fy hun sydd yn eich un chi am byth."

I have no gold, silver or riches to offer thee, just the bread grown by my own hands from the rich earth. It is all I have to offer, save myself which is yours for ever."

In the exact place where the bread impacts the surface of the water, two of the finest cattle Peeta has ever seen emerge from the water. They are followed swiftly by Katniss emerging out of the lake. She laughs happily for the first time since she left the human world and retrieves the bread before it sinks into oblivion below. She comes forth from the lake to stand before him, reassured further that Peeta does not attempt to take her hands; instead he bows his head and kneels before her saying earnestly

"Fy wraig, Rwyf wrth fy modd yn fwy na'r holl fyd ar wahân ac eisiau i chi fod fy ngwraig.

My lady, I love you more than all the world besides and I want you to be my wife."

Katniss responds by gently lifting his face so he may look into her eyes and see the meaning within them.

"Yn wir bydd gennyf i chi am eich cynnig cymaint ag y gall unrhyw ddyn yn wir. "Truly I will have you for you offer as much as any true man may."

She thanks him for his gifts and pledges to him the use of the fine faery cattle, to do with as he sees fit.

Despite her acceptance, the testing of Peeta is not yet over and Katniss gestures towards two small sets of ripples that have begun circling the bankside closest to them. To Peeta's amazement, two more faeries cautiously make their way towards him. The sight of them is so overwhelming that Peeta can hardly look up at them. The first is an older lady, more regal than any female he has ever seen and the second is another young lady as fair as Katniss, but as pale as the snowdrops that blossom despite the winter frosts. Her manner is meek and her appearance more human. Peeta knows that if any of the other boys in the village were to be in his place then she is the one they would choose. He however, is clear in his own mind as to where his own preference lies.

As he predicts, Katniss casts a stern look at her faery godmother who in turn begins to rapidly entreat Peeta on how she has raised these sisters as if they were her own daughters and tells him that he must make a choice in regard to their fate. Peeta continues to bow down to the godmother and he is about to reaffirm his love for only Katniss when he notices that tiny drips of water are falling silently onto the satin of her tiny shoe. He realises that Katniss must be shedding tears for the loss of her closest companion. So without hesitation he promises that for as long as he lives there will always be a place for Primrose by the side of his fire.

At these words the faery godmother seems satisfied and she disappears as mysteriously as she came. Peeta, Katniss and Primrose make their way safely away from the slopes of the Black Mountain, but the faery servants in the castle long wonder what became of the royal godmother, for she is never to be heard of again.

.


End file.
